


start of something new (The Ikea Remix)

by sebayard



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, IKEA, M/M, No Hurt all Comfort, POV Shiro (Voltron), Post-Canon, Sheith Remix 2020, Shiro's Love of HGTV, some innuendos but really it's just kissing here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26265430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebayard/pseuds/sebayard
Summary: “Their yard is too bare,” Shiro says, clicking his tongue in disapproval as Keith drives through their new local suburb.Keith nods. “Not enough shrubbery.”“Mm.” Shiro smiles, “Not at all what our yard is going to look like.”Shiro has never been to Ikea.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	start of something new (The Ikea Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [just so you know, you should hold on](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16423691) by [corduroywords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corduroywords/pseuds/corduroywords). 



> Hello all! Here is my Sheith Remix 2020 fic for Heather aka corduroywords aka @beefykeefy on twitter. I'm remixing their lovely and amazing fic 'just so you know, you should hold on' which I HIGHLY recommend you read before reading this fic, as this fic kinda serves as bookends to that one, but ALSO because it's so good and makes my heart happy. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

There are certain things Shiro knows like the back of his hand. The familiar whirring of the Black Lion, Atlas’s gentle hum, the quirk of Keith’s mouth right before he smiles. 

By the time their scheduled Ikea trip rolls around, Shiro can confidently say home design has been added to that list. There are only so many episodes of Property Brothers you can watch before you start critiquing every home you drive pass. 

“Their yard is too bare,” Shiro says, clicking his tongue in disapproval as Keith drives through their new local suburb. 

Keith nods. “Not enough shrubbery.”

“Mm.” Shiro smiles, “Not at all what our yard is going to look like.”

Keith’s eyes flicker towards him before he reaches over and takes Shiro’s hand, holds it while he drives, “Oh, not at all. We’re going to have so many plants it’s not even funny. Gonna grow our own woods if we have to. Neighbors won’t know what hit ‘em.” He laughs, small and gentle, only in the way that Keith can, and Shiro’s heart squeezes.

It’s hard to remember that this is real, sometimes. That they’re not fighting a war and not trying to survive and that they get to _ have this _ . They get to rest, to have a home with a yard and trees and flowers and a kitchen covered in shiplap. A home with whatever the hell they want because it’s  _ theirs _ . 

Somehow, they beat the odds, and as far as Shiro’s concerned, they’ve earned a right to their happy ending, no matter what that looks like.

It just so happens their happy ending includes a trip to Ikea.

Shiro has never been to an Ikea before. He’s heard about it, sure, even read the website to get a better feel for the experience. 

“Nothing compares to the real thing,” Keith had warned him. “Can’t really prepare until you’ve been there yourself.”

Of course that didn’t stop Shiro from trying, hence the endless HGTV running in the background during the days preceding their trip.

“Another ten minutes and we should be there.”

There’s only one Ikea within a 100 mile radius, and with the drive being over an hour, they had to head out early. “To beat the rush,” Keith had said, although Shiro couldn’t figure out for the life of him how there could possibly be a rush at a furniture store. He voiced as much that morning, yawning and grumbling his displeasure as Keith had pulled himself from Shiro’s arms.

Still groggy himself, Keith just gave him a peck on the forehead. “Believe me, you’ll be glad we got there early.”

By the time they got there, Shiro could see what he meant.

The parking lot was already mostly filled despite the store having just opened only forty minutes ago. The entrance had crowds of people flooding in, and the exit saw some people hauling huge carts in front of them, stacked and teetering. 

Shiro gulps. “Is it always like this?”

Keith nods. “Don’t worry though,” he pulls out his phone, “we’ve got our list. And each other.” He gives Shiro’s hand a squeeze.

He smiles. “Right.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

* * *

It turns out that shopping at Ikea is an otherworldly experience. And Shiro would know, considering he has in fact been to other worlds. It’s so much more…  _ involved _ than he realized. If he’d been with anyone else, Shiro doesn’t think it would have gone so well. But with Keith? Well, let’s just say it’s easy to imagine what home looks like with him in it.

After admiring some kitchen set ups, getting yelled at by a staff member for lingering on a mattress a little too long, and convincing each other they shouldn’t buy things they didn’t need, an easy three hours had passed. A long, exhausting day.

At least he got his headboard out of the trip. A solid victory in Shiro’s book.

But then they get home, unload the car.

Turns out that going to Ikea was only half the battle. 

Shiro and Keith stare at the boxes scattered across their living room, the afternoon’s plunder consisting of a TV stand, bed frame (feat. headboard), two chairs for their kitchen counter, a dresser, one French press (an impulse buy from Keith), and one pillow with a lion on it (an impulse buy from Shiro). Not too much, for most people’s standards, but as two people who spent that past several years without much to call their own, it’s a bit… well…

“This is a lot.”

Shiro nods. “Yeah.”

They both stare at their bare living room as Kosmo nudges a box with his nose. It’s quiet for a moment before Keith’s mouth twitches. “Bet I could put together one of those chairs faster than you.”

Shiro recognizes the glint in his eye, as old as when they first met. “Oh really? Wanna bet on that, cadet?”

Keith puts a hand on his chest and whispers. “I sure do.”

Shiro’s face flushes. “A- alright then. How about we-”

Keith’s already gone, tearing into a box, not even waiting to hear Shiro’s proposition.

So the race is on.

It’s easy to recall the hover races he and Keith used to have back in the day, the familiar feeling of wind whipping around them, the thrill of it all. It might have gotten a little lost over the past few years, time being consumed with fighting real battles and life or death worries and the nightmares of it all, but Shiro’s a competitor at heart, and he knows Keith is too. Neither of them like losing.

Ikea furniture battles are no different.

Except Shiro tears into his box, looks at the instructions, and realizes HGTV has failed him.

“I’ve never seen this in an episode of Flip or Flop.”

“Nope,” Keith grunts as he tries jamming some pieces together. 

“What the hell is an… _ ekedalen _ ?”

“That’s the chair, Shiro.” 

“Oh…” 

Shiro stares at the instructions some more, tries following the little illustrations to help him follow along. And for a moment, he wavers.

“Keith?”

“Hh?” He grunts. Screws clatter to the floor, and Shiro swears he hears something begin to splinter.

“These instructions say it’s better to do this project in pairs. At least I think that’s what it’s saying... is this really a good idea?”

“You giving up so soon?” Keith’s voice is teasing and light and sounds just a little funny as he holds a screwdriver in his mouth. 

“No, no, just looks like you might be struggling a little bit.”

Kosmo, who blinked into the room just before the competition started, comes up to Keith’s chair and gives it a disapproving sniff and lays on top of his instructions.

Keith hmphs, and Shiro laughs.

He’ll be the first to admit that Shiro gets a little distracted watching Keith sometimes, and now isn’t any different. His nose scrunches up when he’s concentrating, and his eyes look like fire, and Shiro always tries to memorize these images in his head. He can’t help it. It’s instinct at this point.

So yes, Shiro’s competitive, but over the years he’s come to appreciate the view a little bit more, so if there’s a reason that he’s fallen behind in bringing his chair to life, well, you can blame it on that.

Keith catches him staring, blushes, mumbles something about screws under his breath. He’s distracted. Distracted enough that Kosmo apparently sees an opportunity.

He picks up Keith’s instructions in his mouth, blinks away.

Keith stares, screwdriver falling from his mouth. 

Shiro bursts into laughter.

And so does Keith.

They both collapse on the floor, laughing until their stomachs hurt and tears prick their eyes, and Shiro knows deep in his bones that they both needed this. Craved this. Their hands find each others’, chuckles still coming in waves until they’re both just breathing deeply, backs on the floor, heads nearly touching.

“Does this mean I win,” Shiro breathes out.

“In your dreams.”

“I still have instructions, so unless you want to make a chair completely wrong, maybe we can just finish them together and call it a tie, then.”

Keith bites his lip, considers it for a moment. “That’ll do.”

Shiro bops his nose against Keith’s forehead. “Good.”

They lay like this for a while, breathing, Ikea pieces scattered around the room, neither chair finished. Kosmo blinks back into the room, instructions MIA, but neither of them move.

“This is our first home,” Keith whispers, voice so quiet Shiro almost misses it.

“I know.”

Keith rolls onto his stomach and moves so that his face hovers above Shiro’s. His eyes search his face. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Shiro’s breath hitches. “Me too.”

Keith kisses his lips softly.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Keith asks.

Shiro looks him in the eyes. “For making this happen for us. For fighting for me. For fighting for yourself.”

Keith takes Shiro’s left hand, kisses the ring on his finger. “You know I always will.”

“Yeah,” Shiro smiles, takes Keith’s own hand and returns the favor, “yeah I know.”

Keith tucks Shiro’s bangs away from his face. It’s grown, since the war ended. Keith says he’ll trim it for him someday, when he’s ready. One of the many memories they’ll make in this home together, he’s sure. “You know, I wish this furniture could just build itself. There are… other ways I’d rather spend my time.”

Keith’s blushing as he says it, and since Shiro is a man of action, and newly motivated, he gets to work.

“I know what you mean. So… how about we uh, ignore the chairs for now, and set up the bed frame instead?”

“The bed frame, huh?” Keith smiles. “I think I can live with that. Got the rest of our lives to finish the rest anyway.”

There are certain things Shiro knows deeply, intimately. The way a sword feels in his hand. The handles of a hovercraft. Keith’s hands, the sound of his voice.

(They get to work on the bed frame and the headboard, finish it quickly. “Our first piece of real furniture,” Keith whispers. “Feels like a beginning, huh?”)

And then some things are new, like Ikea and badly made furniture and laughing on hardwood floors until your belly aches with the person you love the most in the world. 

Some new things, Shiro decides, are amazing.

(“Yeah, Shiro says, “it does.”)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As usual comments, bookmarks, kudos, and the like are all appreciated! And remember to give the OG fic some love!
> 
> (side note 'start of something new' is entirely because the high school musical song is in my head I'm so sorry)


End file.
